Fringes
by Fire-Chan9490
Summary: What about the ones on the fringes? Stories about the girls in Saint Seiya. Please ignore the crappy metaphor. Chapter 5: Miho is waiting...
1. Dragoness

**Dragoness**

**EDIT: Oops. I forgot the disclaimer. I do not own Saint Seiya. Because if I did, I would know the ending and I wouldn't have spent two Fridays ago complaining about cliff hangers.**

She is empty again. The silence smothers the air, making it hard to breathe as the flow of the waterfall beats steadily in the silence, a drone that fills her head with nothingness and washes away the confused jumble of thoughts and fears.

Why? Why was she the only one left? The only one on this cursed mountain that would soon be flooded with her bitter tears.

_Come back!_

_Don't leave!_

His words echoed back mingled with her pleas as if to mock her with the futility of it all.

_I can't. _

_I'm sorry. _

Empty. All empty. Her cries of anguish were lost on him as he turned away.

_Don't you care?_

The words are barely a whisper, nearly drowned out by the rushing water.

His blinded eyes –eyes that she had treated! – were cold as his gaze pierced her.

_My duty to Athena comes first._

Athena. Always Athena. What about her? Couldn't he spare just one moment? That was all she asked for. One smile, one kind word - ! Couldn't he at least offer her that small favor? After all this time…

The bitterness in her laugh is tangible in the air as she watches the waterfall, her mind unconsciously reciting the poem like a mantra until the words are tumbled and mixed together into an unrecognizable pounding. Still, it pulses on and on until she wants to scream it at the man who had made the water fly! Fly into the heavens' arms only to be thrown unceremoniously back to the earth!

The rising dragon did not rise for long.

She pounds the wall in frustration and her tears begin to fall once again, filling the ground with yet more angry and resentful emotions.

_WHY, WHY, WHY?! WHY DON'T YOU COME BACK?! WHY DON'T YOU LOVE ME ANYMORE?!_

She knows he will deny that. She knows his reply.

_Don't be naïve. Of course I __love you__, but one person's __happiness doesn't outweigh the world._

_The world! Is that all you care about?_

The scathing accusatory tone pains her, although only a thought, and his hurt is sharp enough to cut her heart to a thousand pieces. She isn't selfish. Only neglected. Neglected by the only men who had ever cared about her more than just on the surface. Neglected because of the _world_. The _world_ is more important. The _world_ can't wait for one person to catch up.

She sighs.

_I hate the world._

**Soooo... what you think? It just seems to me that Shiryu keeps leaving Shunrei all the time. He's there and, POOF! gone. Every time. Not that I don't like Shiryu; I know he tries his best. ) Just saying. (I STILL SUPPORT SHIRYUXSHUNREI.)**


	2. Chameleon

**Chameleon**

**Disclaimer: Dudes. I don't own Saint Seiya. Please don't sue me. I only have so much money and I plan to spend it on cosplay. **

**URRGH IS BEING REALLY STUPID AND NOT REGISTERING MY LINE BREAKS-! So it doesn't really flow the way I'd like it too... so sorry about that...**

**EDIT: To General Junos - Here is the chapter I promised! Like... a million months ago... ;;;**

When she woke to find herself in the white room with lacy curtains, at first, she didn't know what to think.

Then she knew. She knew he hadn't listened – _Of course not. When had he ever listened? - _and left her. Left her alone with the terror of not knowing, with nothing left to depend on but hope.

After all the times she had taken care of him-

All the times she had tried so hard to save him-

All for nothing.

Nothing, nothing, nothing, except that his unstable balance of life and death tipped ever so slightly towards life - !

Now who could know? Death was imminent. Beckoning him forward slowly, cunningly, with the promise of revenge and honor.

Lying on the bed in a sort of stupor, she blinks, and the white ceiling swims in front of her face, vague patterns showing familiar faces and blood and horror and a sinking island.

She closes her eyes, wishing to avoid the all-too harsh reality of what had happened, though nothing can block the echoing screams from her ears.

He is the only one, besides her.

Everyone else is dead, dead, _dead_, and there is nothing she can do about it.

So she wanted to save him.

Save him and save herself too –

For he was her life.

Worth her sainthood, worth her honor, worth everything.

She would betray Athena, for him.

But he is gone now, just like the others.

Like the others who were once her allies, her training mates, her _friends_.

No longer.

She cannot rise, she cannot speak, she cannot shriek her laments to the gods who will never listen.

Because no one ever listens.

No one ever listens to her.


	3. Cobra

**Chapter 3: ****Cobra**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Saint Seiya, nor have I ever, and probably never will.**

She is pure. Nothing. Empty of all emotions, of thought. She kills continuously, interminably, never stopping long enough for remorse. On and on, her body clothed in red from her victims' blood. On her lips is the metallic taste she cannot wash away.

She cannot tire.

She cannot fall.

A perfect weapon, free of blemishes.

Endlessly, she will keep running on this path.

This path she has chosen.

The one shrouded in darkness, leaving her to stumble along, her clawed hands outstretched, destroying whatever may come, good, or evil.

Except him.

And now she is tired, and now she is falling and stopping and on her knees on the ground with her hands reaching desperately, begging him to bring the salvation she has not been able to find on her own.

She threw herself in to death's arms for him, but he only kept walking forward, abandoning her to her own strength, letting her crawl after him, getting to her feet only to allow herself to endure the same pain again and again.

And still, he walks.

So she keeps running, keeps chasing after him.

Maybe one day she will be rid of this infatuation, this _obsession_.

Maybe she will hate him, then.

Maybe she will be free.

Free.

And then she will kill him.

Kill him and then she will see her light, for that must be what his form is blocking.

She will cast his corpse aside, and then the light, the light she has been searching for, will shine on her crippled body.

She will rip off her mask, throw away everything.

And that is when she will be saved.


	4. Phoenix

**Chapter 4: ****Phoenix**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Saint Seiya. I'm sure you already know that. **

**By the way, thank you to all my reviewers (Blackelement7, alex, General Junos, AuroraExecution, Slothspieller, Eyecanknotspell, and Anime 300) especially AuroraExecution for reading over all these chapters and helping me with my stupid verb tenses (which I attempted to fix, but I think I've failed at that :D). Yay.**

She stands still, allowing the panic to wash over her. Before her – plain proof that, once again, he is fighting for his life.

Just like he had been every day for the past six years.

He would never consider his own safety – not once. That would be cowardice, to him.

Because no matter how much she worried for him, no matter how much care she gave him, no matter how many times she pleaded for him to stop destroying himself – he would continue on with this mad chase of his dream.

She could see it then – his self slowly disappearing and his body turning into an empty shell of hate.

But she hadn't wanted that.

So she ran – ran to him and begged him again and again to please, please stop this pointless self-destruction, all for what? The cloth. That was all he wanted. All he needed. It mattered not that his body may disintegrate to dust before then. He. Needed. That. Cloth.

And now, the moment arrives.

The fateful day – either failure and death, or victory and death. Someone is going to die today, she knows.

And now she is so close that the words of warning she has been shouting for so long have almost escaped her lips – and she hopes that they will reach at least one of the two figures fighting below her.

And suddenly, she is on the ground, no idea what has happened, a sharp, biting pain overriding all her senses and all she can see is the blue, blue sky that slowly seems to darken to night –

She opens her mouth, trying to allow the stillborn words to escape and make their presence known – but all that comes out – three words she never wanted to become true.

"Ikki, you're phoenix."

No. No, no, no, no, no, no, no…!

She can feel his arms around her, hear his voice screaming her name, but her voice is gone – wasted on those words. She cannot tell him that she loves him and that everything will turn out all right in the end, and, oh, there is kindness left in the world, don't stop believing yet because I have died –

And the beautiful sky only smiles down at them as one dies and the other drowns in the hate the first had tried so hard to protect him from.

**--------**

**That green button. Yes, that one right there. It is your best friend. Click on it. It loves to be clicked. Make the green button happy. Yes... yes... that's right... click it...**


	5. Human

**Chapter 5: ****Human**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Saint Seiya. Isn't everyone tired of hearing that already?**

**Oh. And please, please, PLEASE forgive the blockiness. I know it's difficult to read. I know it's irritating. But it's a new style I wanted to try for Miho. So yeah. (Hey, AE, I'm finally posting it! After like... 3 months of sitting and waiting for a teacher to review it... and then having the club canceled... bleeerrgh...)**

She sits quietly by the window, staring into space as the children beg her to play with them, but she refuses gently, her mind floating away, wishing desperately for his return from the long, long battle for which he left so many weeks ago, leaving her with only a reassuring smile that she cannot bring herself to believe because she remembers all the times someone has smiled at her and then disappeared forever (_like her parents who she can only vaguely remember_) and now she is stuck here in this old orphanage (_not that she is complaining – she loves children after all_) day after endless day of the same routines over and over and he is gone, though his smile is etched into her consciousness; his voice telling her that he will be back soon, only, he hasn't come back at all, so she is waiting for him (_like any good friend would_) reduced to watching the roads every day (_she knows she is disappointing the children, but she can't help herself_), and every night she dreams of him – sometimes good dreams (_where he is back and, although battered, he is alive and still smiling_), sometimes nightmares (_where she is attending his funeral, given the duty of closing the casket on his broken form_) and every morning she calls his name and listens for a reply that she knows will not come, so she gets up and looks in the mirror, wondering if it is magic (_like all the old fairytales she has been told_), so she asks it if it would please show her what he is doing right now, and whether he is all right, but all she can see are her own pale features arranged into an almost, half-hopeful expression that inevitably fades as she must face the truth that nothing she can do will make him come back sooner, but she can't let go of the hope that he taught her to hold onto (_even if it is the last thing onto which she _can_ hold_), and she watches his picture whenever she is in her room, talks to him, pretends that he is there – that her words are reaching him somehow, but deep, deep down, she knows that can't be true and she is only lying to herself (_he has also taught her that being truthful to oneself is a good thing, though she has seen him lie to others on many occasions_), that it can only be a matter of time before she loses her mind (_but she refuses to admit that – she's perfectly fine, isn't she?_) so she is waiting and waiting (_a small voice sometimes tells her maybe she will be waiting until the world ends_) while she wonders if perhaps her disconnected thoughts may be understood by the God (_or is it gods?_) high above the mortal world (_but now she no longer knows what to believe – she who was raised by one God, but he who serves another_), so sometimes she raises her eyes heavenward and thinks about praying (_to whom?_), but, always, she decides against it (_seeing as she really has no idea where to direct her prayers in the first place_) and lowers her eyes again (_back to the road_), listening to the worried whispers of her companions (_pointedly pretending not to hear_) and she feels a slight pang of conscience, quickly brushed away, since this is the only way it can really be (_or so she tells herself_) – because there is nothing else she can do for him at all, so she supposes that she may as well not move from this spot anymore (_and she is so, so tired now_) – perhaps she will turn into a statue, but then she will never see him again, (_which is the whole point of this anyways_) and that is the only thought keeping her functioning now, keeping her façade of happiness intact, keeping her _alive_ – and she knows that it is only a spider's thread that she is hanging her life on, but though she realizes the truth of this, that this waiting and moping is pointless, whenever she can (_whether it be during the early morning hours right after everyone has gone to bed or during the day when all the children are playing jump-rope outside_), still

**Abrupt ending much? Please review and tell me what you think... Did I do okay with this style? (Somehow, I'm not sure it's a good idea to try this again... I find it difficult to end long sentences...)**


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